Grow
by Ace-of-spades3
Summary: 30 Romances, Theme 29: Affaire de Cour: Told from the views of three people, Grow chronicles the actions over one night that changes the lives of both Freya and Amarant. AmarantxFreya, FreyaxAmarant, etc.


'_I'm a lucky fella,_

_And I just gotta tell her,_

_That I love her endlessly._

_Because love grows_

_Where my Rosemary goes,_

_And nobody knows like me.'_

_Edison Lighthouse – Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes_

Those of you who are reading my fic 'Solitary' I'm so sorry it's takfor ages, I do a little ficlet to ease myself back into things. I did it with 'Paperwork' and 'Delicate', so now this is 'Grow'. My last AmarantxFreya fic was received happily well, so I hope that this one has a few fans. Merci beaucoup! Please enjoy!

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Three days, Zidane had said. Three days 'til we entered that weird floating orb above the Iifa tree. We all knew that there was a str� and 'Delicate', so now this is 'Grow'. My last AmarantxFreya fic was received happily well, so I hope that this one has a few fans. Merci beaucoup! Please enjoy!

* * *

Three days, Zidane had said. Three days 'til we entered that weird floating orb above the Iifa tree. We all knew that there was a strong possibility that we were going to give our lives for the cause, for the rest of the world. Doesn't mean we were happy about it; we simply acknowledged the morbid fact that our lives had a sell by date, and there was a chance that it was fast approaching. 

Monkey boy had told us while we all sitting in the Lindblum conference room and Eiko and Vivi had disappeared into a dark corner; the poor summoner kid had tears in her eyes, and Vivi was failing miserably to reassure her. That mage has wisdom beyond his age, though he doesn't know it. They're too young for this, I reckon, especially Eiko. She understands more than the average six year old, but her short life has only just begun, and I don't think she's ready to face death, even if it is for the rest of the world. Saying that though, you wanna know my opinion? If the rest of the world expect a _child_ to die for their lives, then the rest of the world are pretty selfish bastards.

Quina had made some dumb-arse comment about munchies in the Iifa tree, which most of us just ignored. The Qu doesn't really get what's going on here: his life literally revolves around food, and he hasn't really realised that his craving to try multi-cultural cuisine has pretty much signed his death warrant. Zidane seems to feel some kinda affinity to him though; his heart's in the right place I guess, even if his grip on reality is a little unhinged.

Steiner and the Princess looked slightly pale, but still maintained their regal composure. I've gotta admit, that damned knight's got more balls than I gave him credit for originally, even if he does think I'm even worse scum than Tribal. That princess though, I think she knows more than any of us, the dangers that lie ahead. For a sixteen year old, she's seen her share of strife. She can probably sense it out like a Chocobo to treasure.

And of course, Freya. Damned chit said her piece, 'bout how we've all gotta make sure that we're ready, that we're willing to do this. Well, what have I got to lose? No family to go home to, in fact, no _home_ to go home to. Never stayed long enough in one place to make friends (god damn, I sound like a five year old). The only people I've really got, sadly enough, are the people who are about to commit mass suicide, and somehow I got roped into the whole escapade. Don't really know how, but Ipsen's Castle was one hell of an eye opener. And, of course, my little stint in the Fire Shrine. I didn't really mean to say what I said, if you get what I mean, the words just sorta came. I think they kinda stuck with Freya; we're 'buddies' or something now I think. Yeah, the Fire Shrine was pretty much my conversion to the light side, I guess.

But then, after all of that, I was just sitting there on the bed of my room at the inn. For our last few days on Gaia, the self proclaimed banker, Zidane, was treating us to the more expensive accommodation, where we didn't have to pile all eight of us into one room. It wasn't late, probably about eight o' clock, but I tire easily these days. I suppose it's the fact that we travel around the entire world about a hundred times per day on the Invincible, only to end up back in Lindblum, where we started. Digging up treasure with Choco, delivering mail for those stupid moogles and playing cards with complete strangers; that was all we had done, and I was absolutely knackered. I took off my vest and examined one of the bruises I had gleaned during one of the fights that I had participated in, grimacing as I regarded the unattractive yellow colour that it was turning on the outside. I gave it a sly prod, before realising that that was a pretty dumb idea, so I left it alone and directed my attentions to a different activity beside the fire. I pulled up the chair which stood in front of dresser and set it to one side of the fireplace, before pulling out my Kaiser Knuckles from my battered old knapsack, and rooting around for my tin of tallow fat. It smells pretty rank, but nothing makes my weapon of choice shine up better. I heated my tin briefly over the fire, waiting for the fat to go soft, before I grabbed a tissue and began rubbing it over the blade, trying to ignore the putrid smell it created. It was raining outside, and the wind blew through cracks and orifices around the window, causing it to cry like a banshee.

A sudden knock at the door both disrupted my activity and made me drop the tin of fat. Grumbling in my normal social manner, I stood up and left the Kaiser Knuckles on my chair, before stalking over to door and preparing to beat the living hell out of the person standing in front of it. I tore open the door and opened my mouth to yell at whoever it was, but the obscenities died on my tongue as I found-

Holy fucking hell.

A miserable, soggy excuse for a dragoon knight was slumped against the doorframe, looking up at me with beseeching emerald green eyes. She had removed her orange coat and hat, and all that was left of my companion was a pair of pale green pantaloons and a white blouse. Her hair and her clothes were sticking to her skin, and he short fur was brushed in the wrong direction, giving her a ridiculous spiky effect.

"Evening Amarant."

"Crescent."

She walked lightly past me and I closed the door softly behind her. Her ivory hair was flat against her face, and she blew it gently out of her eyes as she stood beside the fire in a pathetic effort to dry off. When she caught the aroma of the burnt tallow fat, her nose wrinkled slightly, and she turned away from the smell. I sat on the bed and eyed her quizzically. She just stared straight back, giving nothing away with her poker face. Finally I grew bored of our little game of chicken, and I leaned back on one arm before motioning towards her with the other and asking her reluctantly:

"Well?"

Evidently, I'm quite the linguist.

"There always has to be something going on with you Coral. You're so damned suspicious."

"Is there?"

Freya paused for a moment, before gingerly removing the Kaiser Knuckles from the chair and sitting in their place. She sat awkwardly, with her lower body facing the fire, but her upper body twisted so that she could rest her arms and head on the back of the chair.

"I thought I saw Sir Fratley in the business district."

Stupid amnesiac bastard. The trouble that that forgetful dragoon has caused Crescent is pretty much boundless. I hope he finds out one day, and I hope he feels guilty about it. God damned Freya's so loyal to ol' Fratters that she won't hear a bad word against the posh git.

"You _thought_?"

I could tell by the way that she said it that she had done something that embarrassed and upset the hell outta her. 'Course, if it pertained to Fratley, she would do pretty much everything in her power to do it, I knew that much. She gave a heavy sigh before turning her chair around to face me on the bed. She folded her legs and looked down at her hands, which were tangled shyly together, and with some hesitation, she began.

"I was buying a new pair of gauntlets in town, so I went down about half an hour ago. It was really crowded, considering the fact it's late for shoppers. I suppose everyone's going home from work, but I can't really say. Anyway, so I was working my way through the crowd, and getting trampled on by everyone, and I looked up and-" she exhaled sharply and ran her hands through her slowly drying hair before continuing, "I saw a figure in the distance. I couldn't catch a proper look, as I was being pushed and knocked by the rush hour, but I caught a glimpse of a tall green hat and long brown hair. That's all I could see of him, and I know it's not much to go on, but I was just..._overwhelmed_." She shook her head and pushed her hair behind her ears. "I understand that it was sheer foolishness, but I was overcome by some frantic desire. I began to scramble through the crowds, I even started fighting people out of the way with the butt of my partisan for God's sakes. I didn't care that people were shouting at me, in fact, I couldn't care less. I was so close, I could almost touch him. I finally reached him, and I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around..." Her breathing had become shallow and, if I wasn't mistaken, her emerald eyes were threatening to turn into liquid. "It wasn't him. He wasn't even Burmecian, he was just a tall man with a green hat. But the way he looked at me..."

Freya's head slunk into her hands with both embarrassment and sadness, and she began to cry. This is where I should inform you of something: Freya never cries. Period. I've seen her sad, upset, melancholy, distraught, bitter, wistful and everything else under the sun, but I've never seen her cry. I didn't like it. She looked so...fragile. Freya's a strong lady, and even when she was all beat up and ripped to shreds by the fire guardian bitch, she didn't say a thing, she just bit her lips and stood tall. Well, as tall as you can be when you're hanging onto my arm for dear life just to be able to walk.

"He looked at me like I was crazy, and he looked...well, scared. I couldn't say anything though. I was too dumbfounded, I couldn't seem to find my tongue. I just ran away from him." She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the already wet sleeve of her blouse. "I just ran away."

I stood up and removed a tissue from the box on the dresser and I handed it to her. She took it gratefully, and I leaned against one of the wall with my arms folded and waited for her to continue. To my surprise, she also stood, and she walked over to stand before me.

"I'm sorry. I know you probably don't want to hear me pour my heart out, and to be honest, I really don't know why I came here. I just...wanted to talk to you."

"I'm sorry," I said gruffly, "About Fratley."

In a sudden, surprising movement, Freya stood on tip-toes and put her arms around my neck. I wasn't really sure how to respond when I realised that she was hugging me, so I wrapped my arms around her torso and reciprocated. But y'know, I don't get hugged. Ever. I guess I'm too kinda intimidating. I was quite impressed that the little squirt managed it, she's short, especially for a Burmecian. She's only a little taller than the Princess, and Dagger's about 5'3".

Freya released her grip on me, and she let her hands slip down my arms as she readied herself to leave. She was holding my forearms as I maintained my poise around her waist, and she looked directly into my eyes with a strange expression on her face. I should have moved away from her, but those eyes...they were disarming. They glittered with so many different shades of green that I couldn't give a name them all, and every time she blinked, her long lashes brushed her high cheekbones teasingly and softly. She swallowed gently, a move of something akin to nervousness, but I think it was more of an act of a secret shy nature of hers. Swiftly, and with no warning, she leaned up towards me and placed her small, soft mouth on mine and closed her evergreen eyes tightly. Her hands tightened their grip on my arms as she pulled them ever tighter around her, and she replaced her arms around my neck. Her lips moved on mine with an urgency, as though she felt that the time for this moment of ours was limited, and she kissed me with a gentle firmness. One of her hands discreetly found it's way up to my face, where she traced my beard along my jawline, with a meekness which was in direct contrast of her frantic mouth.

On an ever sudden whim, as quickly as she had begun, she tore her lips away from mine and backed away from my embrace. She touched her bottom lip lightly, never tearing her eyes away from mine, before she began to speak in a hurried, erratic voice.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, please, just forget an-anything just happened, in fact, forget I even came here tonight. Forgive me, Amarant, I apologise, I'm sorry."

I just stood there dumbly, possibly the only time I've been lost for words. Sure, I don't speak up that often, but I always something in my head that I could say I was if so inclined. But not then. I just stood there like a mute, staring at her like I'd just seen Garland and Quina making out in Chocobo's Forest.

And poor Freya, she took this badly. Assuming that my silence was either my way of avoiding retching or a dumb rejection, she turned away from me and began a beeline towards the door.

In a confusing instant, my mind replayed all of our moments together over in my head, and I remembered the first time we met, when she damn near stuck her partisan in my face, and the time in Treno, when I told her all about my city strife. I recalled our time together in the Fire Shrine, when I first began to understand that a friendship was forming between the two of us, reluctant though I was, and I thought of our long and insightful conversations on the bridge of the Invincible. I know how she hates the smell of Gyshal Greens, and that she's deeply embarrassed by her nails because she bites them, and her favourite colour is burgundy, and that she actually abhors orange, but has to wear it because it's the colour of the Crescent family house, and that her favourite food is lupo fruit sorbet... God damn it, I know her inside and out.

And so, I felt completely justified when I moved between her and the door to stop her leaving. I also felt like I had every excuse to hold her pretty little face in my hands, and examine those beautiful green eyes of hers. And lastly, I don't think that anyone can blame me for pulling her tightly towards me and kissing her with as much ferociousness as tenderness.

Her arms moved awkwardly around for a moment, until she finally got a grip on what was actually happening, and she wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and pulled herself closer. I moved back further into the room, and I directed her towards the bed. We toppled onto the mattress, and as she raked her soft, gentle hands through my hair, my own hands explored her slim, petite body. With my shirt already off, half of the job was already done, and she traced her delicate fingers over the etched lines of various scars over my chest. I pulled away from her for a second to unbutton her blouse, but I ended up growing bored with this exercise, and I pulled it over her head and threw it into the air behind me. I damned near ripped off those goddamned pantaloons, leaving her in her modest underwear. I was about to make short work of those, when Freya stopped and said to me:

"But, Amarant, you hate me."

There was a real sense of confusion in her voice, and, as I swept her white-blonde fringe out of her eyes, I sighed in thought, before replying:

"Only about as much as you hate me."

"I wouldn't have swapped you for Quina at the Fire Shrine."

"If you remember, Crescent, I had the option to go with Quina. I chose not to. We're even."

"Suits me," she replied with a pretty little sigh.

She looked back up and me and began to kiss me, but it was different this time. There was no longer the sudden rush of passion, the urgency, the feeling that our moment could be snatched away at any point. We knew now that we were both willing participants, and neither of us were going to back out now. She was gentle and tender, and I felt like she had finally left herself vulnerable to me, like she dropped the consistent tough girl act for me.

I don't remember much of it, the rest on the night is pretty much a blur of ecstasy, but somehow we both ended up laying naked together, her pretty, tired little head laying on my rising and falling chest, and all that I know is, I had no trouble sleeping that night.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside the window, and new sunlight pouring onto my face. It was orangey-pink outside, and dusk had obviously recently surfaced. I leaned on one elbow to raise myself to look around, blinking wearily through my fringe. I looked at the alien room through blurred vision, confused for a second, but then the night before came back to me in a sudden rush of memories, and I looked down at the figure on the bed beside me and smiled. 

Amarant's hair fell in shaggy locks over his strong face, and there was a hint of a smile on his dreaming lips. He looks so gentle when he's sleeping. He had one arm falling over the side of the bed, his large hand lightly scraping the floor, and his head inclined to the side.

I laid my head back on his chest, tracing the lines between his strong muscles with my finger, and outlining his various tattoos with my nail. He stirred quietly, and so I stopped performing my exercise to simply lie beside him, absently wrapping my tail around his leg. He surprised me, as I had always imagined Amarant to snore. Every night, I heard huge, hollering snores from neighbouring tents, and it was always a toss up between Amarant and Steiner. I suppose Steiner wins, but somehow I don't envy him. I do, however, pity Beatrix.

I jumped slightly as Amarant rolled over to face me, but I soon recovered, and I removed a thick lock of red hair from where it was lying, strewn across his face. When I did this, his eyes began to open, and he set his long arms out to the side the perform the most Olympic stretch that I've ever had the good fortune of seeing. With his eyes still partially closed, he gritted his teeth and groaned as he stretched, arching his back with a flexibility that I would never had though possible from him, and then he promptly collapsed back into a tired heap on the bed. His outstretched arm hung across my belly, and his eyes snapped open as he realised that there was a foreign body in his bed. He turned his head blearily, and they opened widely when he saw me. However, with the bright sunlight pouring in, he soon discovered what a bad idea that was, and he grunted lazily and shielded his vulnerable eyes. Silly man. Shaking that off, he opened his eyes once more and looked at me, lying with my silver hair pooling out on the pillow below my head, staring up at him. He sat up on his side, resting his weight on one arm, and he looked at me with an unreadable face.

Suddenly, my stomach churned as I considered a thought which had never yet crossed my mind. What if things between us were never the same again? What if he decided that we should forget this entire affair and pretend it had never happened? What if, the moment he collected his thoughts, he decided that I was nothing to him, and he kicked me out and told me not to come near him again? What if we fell into a silence so uncomfortable that our heads exploded? What if, what if, what if?

"Mornin' Crescent," he said with lazy drawl.

Somehow, I had an inkling that things between us would be fine.

"Good morning Coral."

"How long've you been up?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with the base of the palm of his hand.

"Not long," I replied.

There was then a slight pause where we both looked around for guidance. Okay, so maybe it was slightly awkward to begin with. But, I couldn't expect us both to be peachy keen straight off. There would naturally be some initial shyness for us both to overcome.

"Gad damn, I just slept with a mouse."

Wrong again.

"I've been demoted to mouse now, have I?" I asked playfully, swatting him on the head.

"Not sure it'd be polite to demote you after that performance."

"Because you're all about the manners," I laughed with a sarcastic edge.

"Naturally. I guess I'm just a giver."

"Charity comes naturally to you?"

"Like a duck to water."

I smiled defiantly at him, and he returned it with a mischievous glint in his eye. It was in that moment, that shred in time, that I decided that I _hadn't_ just made the biggest mistake of my life. In fact, I realised quite the opposite.

* * *

Ever since I was a baby, I woke up early. Me and the moogles always had stuff we had to do, including early morning prayers to all of the eidelons, and making breakfast without burning stuff. I'd been up for about ten minutes, and I had had a wash in the '_en suite_' bathroom (Dagger taught the me the word. She's so fancy) and put my clothes on. It's so much fun being an early riser. You get to use all the hot water before anyone else, and you can hear the birds singing and- 

I stopped and listened for a moment; I could have sworn I had heard Amarant's voice, and he normally gets up _last_. I shrugged to myself and continued making my bed, but when I heard another voice, I was burning with curiosity. I was almost certain that I had heard Freya's voice.

I hovered around the door, trying not to make a sound, but I realised that there was no chance of hearing what they were saying if I had the door in my way, so I opened the door just a little bit and squinted through the crack, and I picked up on the back end of one of the conversations.

"...Well, you know, it's not a competition."

"But I won."

"How could you win if it wasn't a competition?"

"Listen Rat, you blatantly said that the first one to find your shoe was the winner."

"I meant the spiritual winner. As in, you now have enlightenment."

"Bollocks."

Aw. Classic Amarant and Freya. They argue loads, but we all know that they're, like, in love. Me and Vivi talk about it all the time. Personally, I think Freya still has issue with Fratley that she has to take care of, but if she can manage to sort those out, then she'll be fine. I think Amarant's totally mesmerised by her though. I know that, like, Burmecians marry Burmecians, and Amarants marry... angsty people with big hair, I guess, but I he doesn't give a... what was that phrase I heard Zidane use? Oh yeah, he doesn't give a 'flying rats ass' about what anyone else thinks.

"If you're that materialistic, then here, have your prize."

I peeped back through the crack of the door, and I almost squealed when I saw it. Freya kissed Amarant! A real 'I'm so in love with you, let's get married and have lots of babies called Eiko' kiss! Then Freya stepped away from him and walked down the corridor to her room, giving Amarant this _look_, which I've never seen her use before, throwing her head over her shoulder and pouting, tossing her silver hair like a super model. Freya's real pretty, when she wants to be, when she's not busy being a dragoon. Amarant stayed in his doorway, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded and a cool, nonchalant look on his face, until Freya retreated into her room and closed the door. The second he saw the door shut, however, he jumped up into the air with a huge grin on his face, his fists clenched and his face the picture of happiness.

Suddenly, Freya's door opened once more, and she poked her head around the door frame to see him stop dead in the middle of his victory dance and turn to look at her, a look of embarrassment frozen on his face. Freya laughed, a real, proper happy laugh, and she pointed at the mortified man before saying to him:

"I knew it! I knew it! You're happy! You, Amarant Coral, all rage and angst, you're happy!"

"Shut up! Like you can talk, goddamned tortured dragoon knight act! I saw that smile!"

Freya stuck her tongue out at Amarant before she closed her door again, and this time Amarant followed suit. I'll bet you any amount of gil in the world though, that he continued the victory dance once he was in there.

I guess that's just the way the world works I guess. I mean, Zidane could've goon into any bar in Lindblum, but he just happened to go into the one where he'd meet Freya, and Brahne could've picked any bounty hunter in the world, but Amarant just happened to look the most intimidating! The gods must've wanted them to get together one hell of a lot, because it seems like the entire world conspired to put them in all the right places.

And even if it was just pure chance, I suppose people like that, who are really searching for someone like themselves, someone to share their loneliness, I guess they're always meant to find their partner. When you put a bunch of eight people on a quest like this, there's bound to be romantic bonds forming somewhere. I'm just happy it happened between these two; they needed each other, they're now part of each other. And you know what? Together, they can finally grow.

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I hope you like this. I'd be much obliged if you could do me the honour of reviewing it, I love hearing what you think of things. Thank you! 


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